These Things Didn't Usually Happen
by StolenSecrets
Summary: Cloud didn't remember what he'd lived through. He didn't realize he was living again. All he knew was not to expect much. Good things didn't happen to him. He couldn't think it, but the eyes looking at him like he was the world told him it was true. z/c
1. Prologue

A/N: I've been playing with this idea for many times. Originally this story started out WAY differently, so I suggest you reread this. This first chapter is a prologue that I added AFTER I'd written the real first chapter of the story. You see "Not a Dream" was the first chapter and I wrote it with a completely different idea in mind. Then I began writing the second chapter and thinking about what I'd do for the third and fourth and I realized that maybe, just maybe I should give y'all a prologue that explains why Cloud suddenly remembers everything that happened in FVII the original game and FVII Advent Children. Just maybe that would be a good idea.

Anyways, I hope no one who read the original first chapter (Which I've edited a lot. I cannot believe some of the mistakes that were in it when I originally published it!)is annoyed with the changes. If ya are, tough luck, because I was going to turn this into a second chance story in the first place. Either that or a dark and dreary unrequited love involving a severely fucked up Zack (slightly sociopathic) that doesn't realize that it would be a bad idea to beat the shit out of and torture the people who love you. I realized that I kind of wanted a story that was just a bit happier than that, one that had a Zack Fair that was happy and bright, instead of, well, evil. (Don't ask me how I manage to make Zack evil every time I have no idea how I do it) Just a bit happier, by the way, because my writing always turns depressing or angry at one point or another, I don't know why I can never imagine happy things happening to Cloud and Zack.

Disclaimer: Square Enix didn't make Tifa preggers at any point in time. I did. They also didn't make Aerith a bigoted bitch. I did. I'm obviously not making any money off of making myself look like a Aerith/Tifa hater when I so totally am not. It's just turning out that way in this story.

Prologue: To Live Again

"_We will go back in time. To the times of our births. We won't even realize who we are until mako enters our veins. This is a chance to change everything for the better. We can make it so that none of this ever happened! One mako injection, one, and our bodies will return to the way they are now, and our memories will come back. I can stop my son from burning your home and stop Hojo from doing every evil thing he did after he killed me. Give that ass-hat Rupert what he had coming. Teach Rufus the things he should have learned. I'll have so many opportunities to make the right decisions I didn't make before."_

"_But they won't let just me go back! They need you! The planet's hero! Please? I need this, you need this. And if we don't we'll just die, and the planet will be overrun by monsters. We will die anyways, eventually, but don't you want the opportunity to live again and save all the lives we couldn't save this time?"_

_Cloud had never heard Vincent so excited, so earnest. It was almost as if Cloud was looking at a different man. Vincent never spoke with such emotion, he rarely spoke at all. Taciturn, laconic, terse, and brusque were words that normally described his speech. Stoic, apathetic, aloof, and dispassionate normally described his personality. _

_Truly, the opportunity was too good to be true._

_Cloud looked at the people who stood behind Vincent. Hundreds and millions of green shadows stood there. Some of the shadows had faces, but many of them were just blobs of color, wisps of green._

_What those people were offering was insane. It had to be a trick. It couldn't be real. But Aerith stood there smiling at him, and beside her stood Zack, and those two had never lied to him about the mystical ways of the Lifestream. Zack had never given him a promise he couldn't or didn't keep. And he'd sworn they were speaking truth and that what they had suggested could really been done._

_He didn't know what to do. It made sense. Vincent's sins would be atoned for. The economic failure that had placed the entire world in poverty would never occur. Time would be reversed over a hundred years and things would play themselves out in a different way. Could two people really change the course of history?_

_Theoretically, everything could be stopped. Midgar would stay whole, Shinra would stay whole, and perhaps, everything could be set right gradually. A lot of people wouldn't have to die, and things could be changed. _

_Or everything could remain the same as it was before Meteor. The corruption of Shinra, the reign of terror that had seized the continent, would only last longer before meeting an end even more disastrous than Meteor, without anyone to stop it. The planet could turn against the people, the Lifestream could be tainted. Events could unfold themselves and lead to an end result that was much, much, worse than the one Cloud faced at the moment._

_Then there was the third course, Cloud could be forced to live through it all over again. Everything could play out exactly the same as it had before and Cloud could be helpless to stop it. He could be forced to watch by the sidelines as everything happened exactly the way it already had, the way it was meant to._

_He wouldn't survive that. He didn't know if Vincent could live through it, but he certainly wouldn't be the same man he was before he'd made this deal with the Cetra. Cloud would be torn apart the second he fell into Hojo's hands for a second time, if not then, then when he watched Zack die a second time, watched Aerith die a second time. Tifa, Yuffie, Barret….. All of them could meet the same ends a second time, and he could be just as helpless as he was the first._

_There were so many ways this could go wrong. They could end up fucking the world up worse than it was now._

_Then again, it seemed nearly impossible for things to get any worse than they already had._

_What would Cloud do if he ended up in a completely different world and suddenly gained all the memories from this life? He'd probably think himself crazy. It would be like a whole new life suddenly merging with an alien alternate reality. It would be like being invaded by another personality, someone who'd suffered through things he couldn't imagine ever being true._

_Was there any way to make sure he knew that the memories really happened? Any at all? It was madness. _

_Things like this couldn't be done. _

_But what if it did happen?_

_What could Cloud do, then? Once his memories returned to him? He'd be stuck in the same rut he'd been in before Geostigma. He'd feel lost, like there was no reason for his existence. He'd done what he'd needed to do. There was nothing for him in the world._

_What if he never remembered this life?_

_He'd follow the same path. He'd become a grunt for the infantry. He'd fight in Wutai as cannon fodder. He'd return home and fail the Soldier examinations. He'd go to Modeoheim, and he'd go to Niebelheim. If the Nibelhem crisis was averted….he might never end up having a mako injection. He might never remember everything he'd accomplished. He might end up a broken down infantryman who'd died for Shinra. He might be one of those fools who stood by Shinra and refused to see the obvious evil of their way sand the damage it did to the planet. He'd loathed those people. He might never know how evil that company was, how bad the people in it were, how horrible things truly were throughout the world. Was that ignorance something he truly wanted to suffer through? Did he want to be one of those men he'd found himself pitying as he'd killed them?_

_He'd be giving everything up. He wouldn't remember meeting Aerith, he might never meet Zack. He'd never marry Tifa, or adopt Denzel. Never meet Barret or Cid or Yuffie. Hell, he might never meet Vincent._

_Who would he be if he never met any of the people who shaped him? Who would he be if none of these awful things happened to him?_

_He'd been a hero. As painful as everything had been, he'd been successful at something. He'd saved the world three times, although he couldn't save it the fourth. It was a selfish thought. The desire to die the hero, the soldier, the warrior he'd become. So many people would be saved if this worked out, what would it matter if the person he was now would disappear? Never to exist? _

_In the first place, what really did he have to give up? Tifa was dead, everybody was dead._

_His child was dead. His friends were dead and there was nothing left for him to live for._

_He was broken. He'd been broken for such a long time. Watching Tifa die, knowing that his child was inside her, watching Aerith die, watching Sephiroth die at the end of his sword, everybody died. Almost all of them died because of him._

_He couldn't stop the planet from destroying everything they'd rebuilt. Reeve died, and the WRO was destroyed. Neo-Shinra was destroyed. Neo-Midgar, and Edge, and Rocket Town were all gone. Every government and every city was turned to rubble. And there is no way to fight the planet. He couldn't stop tornados, tsunamis, and earthquakes. He couldn't fight millions of monsters single handedly, not that he hadn't tried. He could now fight off a thousand at a time. But what good did that do if everyone died anyways?_

_Everything had gone to shit and he couldn't do anything about it._

_Now, he was trapped. He and Vincent were trapped in a cave and on the other side of the wall they'd built there was an army of monsters stretching as far as the eye could see. Ravenous, hungry, heartless monsters made from the bones of the dead, and the evil that had tainted the lifestream._

_Vincent was standing in front of him, and behind Vincent stood a wall of the lifestream. Ghosts and shadows. Aerith stood there, Zack stood there, and thousands of souls stood there. All the lost souls who had been innocent, good, and hadn't deserved to die stood staring at him. They wanted to know if he was willing to give them all a second chance._

_Why on earth was this decision left to him? Why? There was something they weren't telling him, he knew it, but he couldn't help but wonder if he really needed to know. It probably had something to do with him having to go through some heroic journey and save the world again, hell, it probably had something to do with him sacrificing himself to save the world again. Or maybe they wanted to know if he was strong enough to go back in time and remember everything? They were probably afraid he'd get there and break and become a new Sephiroth and try and kill off the entire human race in his stead. _

_Then their sacrifice would have been for nothing._

_The Cetra would sacrifice themselves. Every last one of them would be destroyed so that they might go back in time and stop this all. Aerith would be the only Cetra left, not only on earth, but also in the lifestream. Every single one of his friends would be reborn and given a new chance at life._

_What was there to lose?_

_The only thing left he had to lose….was himself._

_Maybe he wouldn't have to live one hundred and ninety years only to watch the world he'd help save, and then rebuild, be destroyed. Maybe things could turn out happily ever after. There could be a see-you-only-needed-a second-chance-to-make-it-all-better ending._

_Everything had gone wrong, and there'd been nothing he could do about it. _

_They could stop it all._

_Did Cloud really have a choice?_

_Vincent could be a hero, and Cloud could be normal. A normal person, a normal human being, he could live a normal life. That was really what Vincent was offering. Wasn't that what he'd always wanted? He'd never really wanted to be a hero. He'd never wanted to have all of that responsibility thrust upon him. He'd never wanted to watch his friends die, or have enough power to destroy the strongest man in the world. He'd never wanted his mind to be torn apart into a million pieces. He'd never wanted to have someone else's memories invade his mind. He'd never wanted to become a puppet or wage war on an endless army of monsters._

_He'd never wanted to destroy Sephiroth three times. He'd only ever wanted to return the man to the person he'd been before, because the most gruesome part of the whole crusade was the part where Cloud saw through Zack's memories that Sephiroth had once been a good man, a hero. He'd never wanted to kill him, even after he'd found out that he'd killed his mother, burned down his town, and planned to kill everybody and destroy the world._

_He could make it so that he'd never done the things he didn't want to do. _

_But was he just prolonging the inevitable by doing this? Was he just making it so that he himself didn't have to be there when Gaia died? Was he just making it so that the planet died during the time of the generations that followed him? Was he just shirking his responsibilities and forcing them onto the people who were last in line?_

_The price was who he was, and everything he'd accomplished._

_But these things didn't happen. People didn't get a chance to go back in time, be born again. _

_There was something wrong with this offer. There was a chance that it could all turn out worse than it had the first time around… but there was the chance that none of his friends would have had to die. All of their families could have lived, and they could have lived happy lives._

_It didn't matter if things turned out in a way that made it so that he had never met them, never been their friends, or felt their support. It would be enough to know that they ended up living happy lives. Every horrible thing that had happened to them all would never happen._

_Why was he the one forced to make this decision?_

_Did he really have a choice?_

_Had he ever had a choice in anything?_

_Cloud looked around the cave one more time, his decision already made. He looked at the Cetra that stood before him, and glanced over the ghosts of the people he had known. Then his gaze found Vincent's. The man looked as he always had, just a bit shabbier. Cloud had never thought that the red cloak could become more tattered, or the other man's black hair could grow any longer, become any more tangled, but it had. Vincent stood before him, and his face was still that of a young man, but the years still showed in his appearance. Monster blood covered half his face, his golden claw was mangled and misshapen, and the ground below him shook. He was out of bullets. He had no energy left, Chaos had already made an appearance._

_Cloud was in no better shape. His MP was zero, his HP was at half throttle and his AP was below zero (he'd never thought he could reach below zero in any of those three categories and still live, but, unfortunately for him, he was still alive and kicking), and he was missing two of the seven pieces of First Tsurugi. One piece was somewhere beyond the wall that protected them from monsters. The other had been shattered a long time ago, on another cliff, in another battle, by another army of monsters._

_Cloud had never seen so much hope in Vincent's eyes. Cloud was resting against the stone wall, his back to it, his legs stretched in front of him. One arm was wrapped around a wound in his stomach, the other stretched to his side, holding the end of First Tsurugi. The ribbon that honored Aerith, the one that had been wrapped around his bicep for over seventy years, had been wripped off by the monsters that were clawing at the walls of the cave._

_He opened his mouth to begin speaking only to hear his voice crack. He'd refrained from speaking for a long time. After a while he and Vincent had taken to not speaking at all as they fought, it only wasted energy, they could communicate just fine through their eyes and hand gestures._

_He tried to speak again and winced at the softness of his voice, the emotionless, weak, monotone he'd always been cursed with. _

"_I'll do it. But you have to promise me something."_

_Vincent was surprised, but he was filled with hope. His enthusiasm was obvious, and it was so strange to see such an emotion on the normally bleak man's face. It wasn't natural._

_Vincent raised one eyebrow before speaking. His deep voice held no emotion despite the emotive nature of the words he spoke. Some things never changed it seemed, Vincent's voice had been emotionless for far too long to be affected by the emotions of the owner._

"_What? Simply ask and I'll do it. I'd do anything for this opportunity to make sure none of this ever happened and my sins were never committed."_

_Cloud slowly, laboriously made his way to standing. He stood up straight, and walked slowly and purposely so that he was standing right in front of Vincent, who stood slightly in front of the lake of mako that lay behind him, where the souls stood and watched. He glared into the other man's golden eyes._

"_You had better make sure I end up remembering all this!" Cloud very nearly snarled. _

_Shock adorned Vincent's face, and Cloud resisted the urge to chuckle at finally seeing such a pitiable emotion on the other man's face. Yuffie would be jumping for joy._

"_But, wouldn't you be happier if you didn't?" Vincent asked, and the wonder in his voice was very obvious._

"_I need to remember it all, Vincent. I will NOT allow myself to turn into the kid I was before all of this! I will not be helpless, or ignorant, or subject to Shinra in any way, shape, or form. Do this for me! Make sure that before I am nineteen I stand before you the man you see right now. Not some child, some country boy hick with a low self-esteem, little talent, and no lot in life."_

_Vincent didn't say anything. He didn't understand what Cloud meant. He knew the man had always wished for a normal life, and he didn't understand why he would want to remember the horrible life he'd been forced to live if he didn't absolutely have to. In Vincent's eyes this was a chance for him to make it so that his friend, Cloud Strife, had never been taken and experimented on, never been broken down and robbed of his innocence, never been forced to do what he didn't want to. He wanted his friend to live a long, happy, peaceful life that had nothing to do with Shinra or mako or disaster. _

"_Swear it!" Cloud snarled when the other man hesitated._

_Vincent didn't understand why, it was obvious in his eyes, but he agreed anyways. _

"_If it kills me, I will make sure that I see you again. I give you my word." And he meant it when he spoke. He would ensure that the Cloud Strife that stood before him now would stand before him again, no matter what. It didn't matter that he thought it would be better for the other man if he never remembered any of this._

_Cloud smiled._

_Vincent smiled._

_The two of them hadn't smiled in a hundred and sixty years._

_They didn't feel it as the lake of mako before them rose up around their knees._

_They didn't feel it as the monsters broke through the wall that had been protecting them for the last seven hours of their lives._

_They didn't feel it as the Lifestream took them. _

_And they forgot._

_They lived again without knowing it, blissful in their ignorance they lived again._

_Vincent relived his life without knowing why he felt this unbearable sense of déjà vu or had an intuition, an eerie foresight that set him apart from others, for twenty seven years._

_Cloud did the same for eighteen years._

_They lived again and it did turn out better._

_Thank Gaia it turned out better._


	2. Not a Dream

Disclaimer: Square Enix made Cloud moody, not slightly insane. So, don't sue, cuz it isn't getting a profit. Etc. etc. etc.

A/N: Okay, now this story is something that I've started in order to get myself back into writing again. I'm hoping that if I start another story I might be able to get out all the miscellaneous thoughts in my head and return to actively writing one of my other stories. Writer's block wouldn't actually describe what I'm going through at the moment. I have plenty of ideas, the problem is, none of them actually go along with a story that I've already started writing, or fit an update I've been trying to complete. When it comes to those things my brain always shuts down and no words come out. I'm all over the place and ideas for new stories keep filling my head, not ideas to complete others. It's rather frustrating. Anyways, this story is an attempt to get back into a serialization, because I'm having serious issues with continuing the stories I've been writing.

**Warnings**: This is not a story for young eyes. There will be some scenes that may disturb others, normally my stories are rated M for the language, thought process, and situations that are described. This one might actually contain smut. There will be derogatory comments about homosexuals because one of the characters will be a bit of a homophobe. I felt that a gay man who is homophobic would be a very good challenge for me. Some gay men are homophobic and take their anger out on others because of the way they were raised. They were taught that homosexuality was wrong, and having feelings for others of the same gender lead to severe emotional turmoil. This is an extremely painful state of mind that needs to be addressed. No one should feel that they have to hate themselves for who they are and fear those who are like them. There will be crude language, and etc.

Chapter One: Not A Dream

"You know blondie? You're my type."

Cloud froze and very nearly began hyperventilating. The line was not spoken in the sleazy voice of a perverted old man, or the high voice of a sadly desperate woman. No, a smooth, deep, and incredibly sexy voice was speaking in his right ear. He knew this voice. This voice didn't normally address him. The owner of this voice had only once spoken to him.

This was not something that usually happened to Cloud. The voice speaking those lines didn't normally belong to someone he knew. The speaker _never_ had the power to turn him on with the low purr he/she added to that _ridiculous_line. His type? Like hell. Cloud wasn't a _type._ No one was like him, no one would ever be like him, and no one would ever want to be like him. At one point in time, Cloud was ashamed of how different he was from everyone else, not anymore. Cloud was proud that he wasn't a type.

Slowly, he turned his head to the right and took in the slightly cocky, extremely friendly smile that lay upon the speaker's lips. Cloud almost felt a little bit guilty that he was returning the man's smile with a frown. Actually, if he was honest with himself, he didn't really feel anywhere near guilty for not being happy to see this man. But going into the true feelings he felt, the mixture of contradicting realities, did things to Cloud that he didn't want to think about. So, he reasoned that what he was feeling was guilt for being unable to greet such a friendly person with an at least semi-civil manner. Which was ridiculous, because the very thought of talking to this man threatened Cloud, so much so that he had nightmares about him.

This man did things to Cloud.

Physically, the man was unique. His face was one of the most beautiful he had ever seen. He was well built, packed with muscles that subtly hinted at bone crushing power, but not too bulky. He was tall, about six three, which annoyed Cloud because Cloud was only five eleven, and that included three inches of hair. Cloud's hair was interesting to say the least, but that was natural, nothing he could do about it. This man on the other hand, his hair was most definitely the most _interesting_he'd ever seen, not that the spiky hairstyle did anything for his face. It wasn't natural, there was gel involved, and how the man got it to look exactly the same everyday Cloud would never know. When he'd first met the man his hair had been different, and Cloud thought that the shaggy hairstyle from before complimented the man's personality more. It had framed his face better, and most importantly it had been the man's natural state. Cloud liked natural things. He liked the way things were in their original state.

This man was no longer confidently walking around, blazoning everything he was. He was more cautious, more reserved, less natural. Cloud didn't think it was natural, these changes, and he especially hated the way it showed in more than the man's hair and outward persona. There was a scar on the man's face in the shape of a cross that screamed things to Cloud, things he didn't want to know. The pain in that scar was obvious to anyone because SOLDIERs didn't get scars. Only severe trauma could deplete a SOLDIER's resources enough to allow a scar to form. Scars weren't natural. And along with that scar, the man wore an unnatural look in his eyes that was slightly cold to the world around him. The man had once been the warmest person Cloud had ever seen. Why had he allowed one trauma to remove that? It angered Cloud, he'd once been so jealous of that warmth, and now this man had taken it for granted and locked it away deep within his heart. Cloud was no longer one of the people worthy enough to see it, not that he was sure there was anyone worthy enough to see it, or if there ever had been someone that worthy. The only thing that mattered was that he'd once been able to see how bright, warm, and caring this man was, and now he no longer got to see even a glimpse of it.

Cloud was unfortunate enough to know more about that trauma than anyone else, he'd been there when it happened. He'd seen the tears drying on his face and the redness of his eyes. He was observant enough to be able to see the way that incident had affected the man in front of him, and strangely enough he found himself actually _hurting_for the man. Perhaps it was because he knew what it was like to be forced to kill someone you loved? Cloud hardly thought that putting down the Nibel wolf he'd raised, loved, cared for, for seven years, compared to what the hero in front of him had been forced to do. Still, Cloud felt sympathy. He felt that it wasn't right for him to feel sympathy for someone so much more blessed than he was. It disturbed him, the man had everything he'd ever wanted; he didn't deserve to grieve the way he did. Or maybe that's why he grieved? Cloud didn't like to think about what it would be like if he'd achieved his dreams and realized that they weren't as happy as he'd thought. He didn't like thinking that the day he achieved everything he'd ever dreamed of would be a day where he grieved for a loss greater than any he'd ever felt. That thought scared him.

The man's dream was to become a hero, and in Cloud's eyes he became one long ago. To be a hero, you have to sacrifice something. The hero in front of Cloud wasn't as happy as he used to be. His aura, his personality, was not as bright or energetic as its natural and unaffected state. The man had sacrificed things no person should be forced to give up. It angered Cloud and at first, Cloud had thought it strange that he actually cared about such things. After a while he gave up on questioning what the fuck was going on. He realized and accepted that the only suitable explanation for these strange feelings consisted of insanity. Bat shit fucking crazy people couldn't provide rational explanations for their feelings, which meant that Cloud was bat shit fucking crazy. Strange, how he was totally fine with that. It hardly affected him at all.

Perhaps, the dream of being a hero was a fool's dream. Maybe the man had realized that, and in doing so, had figured out that heroes weren't really heroes. They were just broken people, broken people who were praised by everyone around them for things that should come naturally to every person. Cloud never wanted to be a hero. He prayed he'd never be put in the situation where he had to be. Heroes felt pain. Pain wasn't good. Heroes were responsible for more than they could handle. Such failures weren't good. Heroes watched dreams slide away from both themselves, and the people around them.

Cloud liked his dreams, even though some of them disturbed him. He was now totally fine with that. It hardly affected him at all. His dreams answered questions, and although he didn't like those answers, at least they were always true.

Cloud began to see the man in his dreams and his questions slid away. Those dreams, and what they were about, disturbed him to his very core. Those dreams took hold of his personality, and twisted it into something he didn't recognize. The dreams would not leave him no matter what he did. He'd been dreaming about that voice, those lips, and those eyes for quite a long time. He saw expressions and actions in his dreams that would never happen in real life. He _felt_things for this man that would never be acknowledged. There was an everlasting fantasy going on in his dreams, providing further proof to the claim that Cloud was insane.

Strangely, he was fine with that as long as he got enough sleep to go through his missions and succeed. Cloud slept well, despite the things that entered his mind while he was a sleep.

Cloud felt his heartbeat immediately begin to race as he took in the expression on that face. Perhaps some of the expressions in his dreams could become reality, because really, the only other time Cloud had seen anyone look at him that way had been in his dreams. He'd always wished that someone would look at him that way, but at the moment he was scared shitless. The face making his dreams come true had power over Cloud. Cloud never gave power to anyone. That face belonged to a man. Cloud had never wanted men to look at him like that. Cloud never looked at other men that way. Or did he? These thoughts made Cloud quake with terror. He had hoped that one part of him was normal. Just one aspect of his personality had to be like everyone else.

The expression on the man's face and the enormity of what the man had just said led to a shameful blush making its home on Cloud's cheeks. Upon realizing the heat not only graced his cheeks but also his ears and the back of his neck, Cloud was barely able to keep from cursing. Men didn't _blush,_damn it, especially in the presence of other men. Then again, most men didn't get hard for their superior officers, either.

There was a wicked grin on the other man's face. It got even more wicked when the flush began to take over Cloud. Usually, a grin like that would make Cloud punch the other party in the nose, but this time the grin made Cloud's breath become light. Lecherous looks normally pissed Cloud off but at that moment that perverted grin made his pants a little tight.

This kind of stuff didn't happen to Cloud. He couldn't believe that this person was approaching him, and he couldn't believe that this person would actually use such a terribly _lame_line. He took a closer look at the sky blue and mako green eyes of the man addressing him, because there was just _no way_ that a SOLDIER 1st was hitting on him _sober._ It just didn't happen. Yeah, this man was known for licentious behavior and lascivious mannerisms, but those were normally directed at women. But sure enough, upon further inspection Cloud saw the slightly dilated eyes and soft flush of the man's cheeks.

_At least he hasn't turned as red as a fucking fire truck. What the hell is wrong with me? He starts talking to me and I suddenly turn into a fruit that tries to be a vegetable? I fucking hate tomatoes._

By the looks of things, the man was totally shit-faced. His cheeks were almost as red as Cloud's (although his natural tan hid it very well) his smile looked incredibly stupid, and his eyes looked sleepy as fuck. Somehow the blue eyed brunette managed to make that look not at all unattractive. Cloud's mind couldn't help but imagine other things that could have forced that flush on that handsome face. Things that Cloud shouldn't be imagining about another man, things that were destroying Cloud's sanity, things that he would never _ever_ admit he was thinking, filled his thoughts. These things filled his mind whenever he saw the man who was currently hitting on him. This stuff didn't normally fill Cloud's mind.

_Well, I guess that explains both the line and the fact that it's addressed to me. I thought SOLDIERS didn't__**get**__drunk? How much has he drunk? It must have been a shit load.__**What**__was he drinking? I think I'm gonna need it sometime soon._

Normally, Cloud wouldn't even turn to look at the person who was speaking because no, he was not the speaker's type and no, he would not get into the sack with them. This time, at least, the person speaking to him was someone he more or less knew. If one conversation on one mission actually helped you get to know someone. If Cloud's rather embarrassing habit of somehow ending up wherever this guy was helped you know someone. If hearing conversations, rumors, and tales of glory and not being able to get them out of your head helped you understand a person's inner workings. If so, then Cloud knew this man better than he knew himself.

Really, the only important information in this situation lay in the fact that this person was a _man,_and not only a man, but also a 1st Class Soldier. The man speaking to him was the only 1st ever to be kind to the infantrymen. This man spoke kindly to everyone, put enthusiasm into everything, and was one of the most _perfect_ individuals Cloud had ever had the privilege to meet. This man also happened to have the most perfect, most brag worthy girl in the world as a girlfriend, if his boasts had any truth to them. That information should have been the only thing Cloud cared about at the moment.

It wasn't. The main thing running through Cloud's mind was that this person was also the only man Cloud had ever been attracted to.

Actually, saying that Cloud was attracted to this man was an understatement; in reality, Cloud had a rather hopeless crush on the man that sent his thoughts into turmoil. The person wasn't only the subject of wet dreams. Sure he was the subject of a very large number of amorous and not exactly innocent thoughts, but he was also what Cloud wanted to _be,_this person was an idol, a happy, kind, and all around amazing guy. This person was everything Cloud was not, and for some, crazy, unknown reason, Cloud _wanted_this person. Cloud had never wanted another man. Cloud normally wanted women with long dark hair, large chests, and kick ass attitudes. Cloud normally wanted soft curves and cute smiles, not hard planes of muscle and sexy cocky smirks.

This man was an anomaly for Cloud. This man was a curiosity. This man would probably end up being the bane of Cloud's existence. Despite these things, or rather because of these things, Cloud didn't do what he normally did when he heard a moronic line addressed toward him. Instead, he actually fought against his irrational, rather violent inner self and resisted the incredibly strong urge he had to be extremely rude to the fag that was hitting on him. Instead of allowing the fact that a man wanted to get into his pants inspire homicidal rage within his usually calm and reserved self, Cloud refrained from telling this person off.

He shifted in his place upon his stool and turned to face the man. He was standing a mere inch away from the edge of Cloud's personal space limits and leaning one arm against the bar top in front of him. He was too close, he wasn't close enough. He inspired way too many contradictory thoughts.

Cloud examined the smiling face beside him and took in the happy, slightly stupid glint in the man's eyes with some satisfaction. It was slightly humorous, but it wasn't the unnatural cold look the man had taken to wearing. There was a little warmth in the look, maybe Cloud was worthy after all. Or maybe the man was totally drunk off his ass, which was probably why he hadn't let the tense silence that reined for quite some time after the initial point of contact bother him.

_Kudos, you haven't run away yet. That's admirable. From what I've heard, you don't usually do this kind of stuff. My sources say you were a bit of a party animal when you were a 3rd, but after Commander Hewley became your mentor you calmed down. What's up with you? Story goes that you're straight and head over heels for a flower girl in the slums. Did you two have a lover's spat? Did you decide to get hammered and hit on the first cute face you saw? What would you do if you knew the way I thought about you? What would you do if you knew that I've talked to you in my head countless times? Do you even recognize me? Do you even know who I am?_

Cloud ignored the slightly disturbing fact that his thoughts were finding a way to address the man in front of him, and really hoped his long list of questions didn't show on his face. He felt his brow deepen into a frown when all patience was lost and the man spoke again.

"Did you hear me, cutie? No response? Aww, that's sad, I caught you looking at me a few times earlier. I thought that meant something. Do you know how beautiful you are? I haven't ever seen features as delicate as yours, anywhere." The voice the man used had a bit of a chirpy quality, there was quite a bit of happiness in his manner, and the flirtatious smirk on his face did a little to make him look less stupid. It only did a little, and Cloud couldn't help but glare at him. Beautiful? Delicate? Did this guy think he was a chick? Lovely. Cloud rolled his eyes. He tried desperately to ignore the potentially embarrassing affect that baritone voice could have on him.

"Awwww. Don't be like that! It's true!" The man exclaimed and Cloud fixed him with a shrewd look that made his smile drop a little and his hand reach back to rub the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture. He laughed a little and Cloud just shook his head at him sadly.

He was warring with himself. He had a few options, and none of them fully satisfied him. The first option consisted of telling the man off and possibly getting into a fight with someone who could kick his ass about as well as an Ifrit. That was pretty bad because an Ifrit could eat Cloud for breakfast. The second stated that the best plan of action was to completely ignore the drunk. Considering what Cloud knew of this man's personality, he was pretty certain this plan wouldn't work. The hyperactive man was as stubborn as a mule and would probably annoy him for the entire time he stayed at the bar. Of course, the third option was to just leave the bar, but Cloud's pride didn't allow him to do that. He never gave in to the harassment of other men, ever. That was weak, and although Cloud didn't look for confrontation, he wouldn't allow himself to lose a fight. Walking away was admitting defeat. Sure, people claimed the bigger man walked away, but Cloud was not a big man, and he had no intention of acting like it. Screw that shit, kicking a guy's ass said that he was the better man better than walking away. The fourth consisted of being polite, and informing the man of things his drunken state probably made him forget to notice. For some strange reason, Cloud didn't feel like informing the fourth drunken man to approach him that night, that he was not a woman, and not gay. Really, it was so strange that the blond was in a bad mood. The fifth option…. The fifth option was an idea that Cloud was really ashamed to have allowed in his head. The idea of playing along with the man and seeing where the flirtation goes might satisfy his curiosity, but there was no doubt that at it would lead to a lot of trouble.

Contrary to what was the popular opinion among Cloud's bunk mates, Cloud Strife was not a fairy. Cloud was _not_gay. He was _very_attracted to women, and normally very _repulsed_ by men. He used to always laugh off his friends' jokes and accusations because he was very secure in his sexual orientation. It didn't used to insult his masculinity to have people imply that he seemed like a homo or have men hit on him. He used to just laugh it off and set people straight gently. When it came to misconception among his peers, Cloud didn't really care. He knew he wasn't gay, and no one else had to know that, too. It was his business, no one else's. He had no urge to get fucked up the ass, and he had no urge to suck dick, therefore, he was in a safe, _normal_, place. It didn't matter what the other infantrymen thought.

He didn't hate on homos, he just didn't necessarily associate with them. He wasn't abnormally rude to them either. He treated everyone with the exact same distant, cold, and aloof manner. He was rude to everybody. Straight or gay, it didn't matter, Cloud didn't like people. He wasn't shy, he was antisocial. Cloud wasn't afraid of people, he hated them.

This mentality remained consistent until Cloud began to have inappropriate thoughts about a man. Cloud would willingly admit that he was afraid of this man. The dreams had started out innocent enough after first meeting him, but eventually, the dreams morphed into something not at all innocent and led to cold showers. It confused Cloud to no end. He looked at other men and saw things to envy: bigger biceps, broader shoulders, better calves, more handsome face, prettier face. He looked at this man, the man who was currently trying to get into his pants and only saw something to worship. He saw something he wanted, desperately. He saw something he knew could make him happier than he had ever been, if he only allowed it to happen.

He _had never_ been attracted to another man before. The thought that the one thing about him that had been normal had changed scared him. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he _did_lean that way made him extremely angry. He'd been taught at a young age by his town that homosexuality was not acceptable. He'd never really bought that someone who was gay should be hated and ostracized purely because of that, he'd never bought the idea that gay meant evil, disease, sin. Other people could be gay, and have homosexual thoughts, but that was not acceptable in his own mind, mainly because it wouldn't have been acceptable to his father, who wasn't alive anymore, but still had a great influence on Cloud. Cloud loved his dad, and most of all, he respected the man who had laid down his life so that his son and wife could get away from the monster that was about to tear the three of them to shreds.

He hated the thought that maybe, if the man could see him today, that man would think him unworthy of that sacrifice.

Cloud _had_been looking at him all night. Ever since the SOLDIER had walked in to the bar, Cloud had been sending glances over to the booth he had taken up with his friends. He couldn't help it, he had to take in that face and see if his dreams paled in comparison or if they over exaggerated. The other SOLDIERS that had accompanied the man had left a long time ago. The bar was beginning to clear out, and Cloud was thankful that this was the one night he had off, because it was long past the time he had to report in. He was free to get drunk off his ass and not return to head quarters until noon. He hoped that this guy had the day off, too, because if he wasn't he'd probably end up getting his ass handed to him by the General. Sephiroth ruled over the 1sts with a method consisting of severe punishment and no reward, and although Cloud didn't really like the other man all too much right now, what with his annoying ability to put Cloud into a state of school girl shyness, Cloud didn't want the man to be punished.

It all came back down to the fact that the only man Cloud had ever been attracted to was approaching him and calling him out on his stares. The truth of the man's statement, and the overwhelming curiosity Cloud felt made up his mind. Perhaps, if he just flirted a little, he'd understand why he kept having dreams consisting of this man on his knees for him. Maybe he'd be able to understand why it had to be _this_man. Why it had to be those lips touching something only Cloud's hands had ever touched, why it had to be that face looking up at him from the floor, that spiky hair in his hands. Why couldn't it be someone else? Why couldn't it be someone Cloud was actually safe to touch?

After a few dreams, after a few instances seeing the man around both the Shinra building and the rest of Midgar, Cloud realized he had a strange obsession with this man's mouth. He always stared at it, always took pleasure in seeing the corners of his lips turn up, always felt displeased when they dropped. Again, he found himself staring at it as it began to frown in impatience. When the man was about to speak again Cloud interrupted him and directed his gaze up into his eyes.

"I heard you. Not interested." Cloud spoke for the first time that day and tried not to wince at how emotionless and ugly his voice sounded. The truth was that Cloud hated how boring, monotonous, and…..weak his voice was. As Cloud heard himself speak he realized that it was probably impossible for him to flirt with the man. He'd never flirted before, and he had no clue what he was doing.

"What? Hey, that's not a nice thing to say!" The man didn't even look angry as he responded to Cloud's statement.

"And?" Cloud raised an eyebrow.

The man had started to look a little excited at finally being able to hear Cloud speak. There was a wider smile on his lips and a demeanor about the man that confused Cloud to no end. One leg was bouncing a little. He looked proud, and almost as if Cloud's indifferent, rude, and sarcastic manner was a good thing. That was a first.

"Well, I just complimented you, and all you say is 'Not interested'? That's cold, babe." The voice was happy and excited, not outraged, like the words would suggest. What was wrong with this guy? The tone in his voice did strange things to Cloud. His excitement and joy at getting a response from Cloud almost made Cloud happy as well. He could feel enthusiasm start to sink into his being, and felt himself get excited, hopeful. Cloud wouldn't let anybody know this, especially not the man himself. Cloud gave him a look that was reserved for men who suddenly grew six heads and a pair of wings. He forced an air of annoyance on his face. It wasn't entirely forced, he kind of felt like leaving the bar, looking into the sky and screaming his lungs out.

"Sir, do you even know who I am?" Cloud asked. He was shocked to find that his voice didn't match his expression. There was a bit of flirtation and a lot of amusement in his voice. Knowing this disturbed Cloud, but at least he was very certain that there was no way the man would be able to recognize what was in his voice. Not even his mother would have been able to pick up the emotion in his statement.

"Well, no, I don't know your name or what you do for a living, but I can tell that you're the shy, innocent, and cute type. And don't call me sir, it makes me feel old! The name's Zack Fair! I'm not that much older than you. I mean, you can't be older than eighteen, right? Are you using a fake I.D? How'd you build up a tolerance that fast?"

Cloud decided to answer the last few questions and ignore Zack's assumptions. Cloud didn't need Zack to tell him his name, but whenever he thought of him he called him 'the man', 'that man', 'that person.' He'd like to think that if Zack wasn't drunk off his ass he'd at least know what Cloud did for a living, even if he didn't remember his name. After all, they were on a mission together, one that Cloud was fairly certain would never leave his mind. Zack had to have at least remembered his face. Right now, Zack was so drunk he didn't even know what gender Cloud was.

"I turned eighteen last month." He said quietly. He looked Zack in the eyes and gave him the cute look that always got the women in the canteen to give him an extra serving of the slop Shinra gave the grunts and actually dared to call food. He saw Zack's eyes widen and his smile get larger. Cloud wanted to shoot himself when he found that this made a warm feeling pool in the pit of his stomach. It felt good, making this man smile, but Cloud's mind told him that it was disgusting, it was pitiful, and would lead to a great deal of pain.

"Really? How can you take that much alcohol without passing out? That's pretty impressive for someone so innocent. I've been glancing at you, too. You've been drinking a lot of whiskey."

"I'm not at all innocent, Zack." Cloud said, he let a tiny smile grace the corners of his mouth and knew that his voice and what he'd said was highly suggestive. He saw Zack's Adam's apple move a little and was amused when he saw a little bit of lust touch his eyes. He resisted the urge to laugh. He knew that Zack was an open book when he'd first met him, but he'd never thought he'd be so easy to read. This was cheap porn flirtation, and he couldn't really believe that line had come out of his mouth.

"Oh, is that so?" Zack said with a slightly husky edge to his voice. Zack pulled the empty stool that was standing behind him closer to Cloud and sat on it. He'd been standing beside Cloud and staring at him for their entire conversation. He fixed Cloud with a look that made his mind think inappropriate thoughts and leaned his upper body against the bar. He didn't take his eyes off of Cloud's, and this made the blond feel just a hint of self-satisfaction. He was starting to forget all about his hang-ups when it came to Zack.

Who cared that he was a guy? Who cared that he was totally out of Cloud's league? Who cared that it was probably against regulations? Zack Fair was currently flirting with Cloud Strife. These kinds of things didn't happen to Cloud, ever. He had to seize this opportunity while he could.

"Yep, the legal drinking age in my hometown was fifteen and Midgar goes for the legal age of the birthplace." After speaking, Cloud reached for the shot of whiskey he'd neglected to drink for far too long. He needed to take a few seconds to look away from the heavy stare Zack was fixing him. As he brought the shot to his lips he began to think thoughts he didn't really want to think and felt the slight smile he'd been wearing slip a little. The bravery that had spurred him on throughout most of the conversation began to leave him.

Cloud was not a timid creature. He kept to himself because he liked the way things were when he was on his own. Zack made him feel timid as a kitten. Thinking of these things, how totally out classed he was, how few things he had to recommend himself, how completely out of his element he was, Cloud couldn't help but have the urge to disappear into the ground beneath him. His body began to crouch into itself without this knowledge as he began to think that _Zack_would care that Cloud was another guy, _Zack_would care if he knew that he was currently flirting with an_infantryman_, and Zack would care that he deserved way better than Cloud.

He didn't notice that Zack's eyes had moved to his lips when he'd brought the shot glass to his lips and hadn't left since. He didn't realize that Zack wasn't as drunk as he thought and had easily noticed the sudden shrinking of the person he'd been flirting with.

"Hey, what's got you going all sad on me?" He asked quietly. His voice was so gentle, so serious, that it shocked Cloud. Cloud turned to face him and saw that his face had become as serious as his soft and gentle voice. He cursed himself when he felt guilt pool in his stomach with the thought that he was the reason Zack had stopped smiling.

_Thoughts about the fact that you don't remember me at all, don't even think my face is familiar, and probably think that you're talking to a girl right now. Thoughts about how I actually care about you, as crazy as it seems, considering this is only our second conversation ever._

"Nothing." Cloud forced a smile at Zack, and immediately changed the direction of his gaze. He'd never tried to fake a smile. He very much doubted that he was at all convincing. He found himself looking towards the bar maid who was cleaning off the counter top. The woman glanced up, saw him staring, assumed he wanted to order something, and started to come his way. Zack looked towards the same direction and gave the woman a smile.

"Can I have another beer, Esme?" Zack asked when the woman had reached them. Cloud sent a strange look in his direction. He hadn't known that Zack was such a flirt. In all honesty, Cloud wasn't surprised. Zack Fair was an attractive man.

"Sure, Zack! Anything for your friend?" The woman chirped. Cloud shook his head at her.

"Can you bring me my bill, please? It's getting late." Cloud said quietly.

"What? NO!" Zack suddenly exclaimed. Cloud jumped a little in his seat and couldn't keep the emotion out of his face. He was fairly certain he looked like a spooked chocobo.

"Heh. Sorry about that blondie." Zack laughed nervously. "Esme, could you make my order 2 beers? I don't want him to leave, yet. I'm gonna force him to have a beer with me."

"Sure, Zack."

* * *

><p>When Cloud walked into the motel holding a strong, large, male hand in his own, he realized that he was an idiot. A complete, desolate, soon to be destitute, soon to be shattered, idiot. There was no way in hell he was getting out of this situation unscathed. He was about to have a one night stand with a man. A slightly drunken man who, if he did realize Cloud was male, didn't realize that Cloud was part of the same company and quite a few ranks below him.<p>

There was no way out though, Cloud thought, as two strong arms slipped around his waist once they had found their way to Cloud's room and had shut the door behind them. Soft lips began to press against his neck, and Cloud felt something constrict in his chest when the man tightened his grip around his waist. He wanted this embrace to last. He wanted to feel this again, and again and again. The warmth at his back, the warmth of the feeling that was filling him, the thought that there was someone who cared, made him wish time would stop, or that there was some way for him to ensure that he felt this every day for the rest of his life.

As the lips parted and teeth began to nibble at his neck Cloud rolled his head back and rested it on the strong shoulder behind him, exposing his neck. Zack's hands moved to the line of his pants and then back up, under his shirt. His fingers then started to softly trace the lines of Cloud's stomach sending Cloud's blood rushing to his crotch. Cloud yelped a little when his teeth found a particularly sensitive part of his neck and had bitten just a little bit too hard. Zack murmured something unintelligible and licked, then kissed, the spot he had abused.

Cloud moaned, it felt so strange, being held instead of doing the holding. He was letting Zack take control and this confused him, made him just a little bit scared. He wasn't used to vulnerability.

Zack's hands moved down from Cloud's stomach to grip his hips in a tight embrace.

Cloud never wanted the man to let go, and when he felt hips roll into his ass the panicked feeling, brought on by the fact that he was about to let another man fuck him, began to war with the more pleasant ones brought on by the lips against his neck.

"Relax. I know what I'm doing." Zack said into his ear, making Cloud shudder. Zack nibbled his ear after that and Cloud groaned. He turned around and looked Zack in the eyes.

"You know, you're kind of drunk right now." Cloud spoke softly as he moved his arms to wrap around Zack's neck. He took a few steps forward and leaned into Zack. In doing so, he forced Zack's back against the wall. The other man looked into Cloud's eyes with a lazy grin and slouched into the wall. Cloud pressed his hips into the other man's. He felt content like this, and judging by the look in Zack's eyes, he was content too.

"So?"Zack said softly. He moved his hands up Cloud's back and began to rub at the slightly tense muscles there. Cloud sighed softly, and the man smiled.

"Well, you might wake up in the morning and kick me out of my bed. Either that or you won't be there when I wake up, which I wouldn't mind, I know a one night stand when I see one. I just don't want you to regret this. You aren't taken are you?" Cloud spoke in a smooth low voice. He was quiet, as always, even when he was pressing against another person, hard as a rock. Cloud didn't moan loudly, he knew. He made soft sighs, quiet moans of approval. He wondered if Zack liked them loud, he didn't know if he could be that if he tried. It wasn't a natural state for him. He had his doubts right now, as much as he wanted this, he felt insecurities he'd never knew he had rise up and settle in his stomach, making him feel kind of sick.

He knew Zack was taken, he didn't know why he asked. Perhaps he wanted to feel like he'd been stabbed in the gut? Hearing that yes, Zack had a girlfriend, and that he was just a casual fuck because the man was horny, would most certainly make Cloud feel like he'd had masamune shoved through his chest. He didn't want to think about how strange that was, how totally unwarranted such feelings were. He knew very well that he had no claims on the man before him, no right to wish that this would be more than a one night stand. Tonight had really been only the second time they had talked, but they had talked so much. Cloud felt he had spoken more that night, during the two hours they had sat at the bar talking to each other, each only having one beer, than he had ever spoken to one person before. It felt strange to him, how easily he fell into Zack's trap. He'd opened up and talked about many things. He'd described his mother, her cooking and his sister. Zack had described his mother, his mother's cooking and his dog, Harry, who died when he was nine. Cloud had described Nibelheim, Zack had described Gongaga. Cloud felt so sad, knowing Zack probably wouldn't remember that long conversation.

Cloud felt sad that after tonight, he'd never have Zack make him laugh again. Zack made him laugh and laugh and laugh. A carefree laugh he'd never heard himself let out. Normally his laugh was a dark, serious, or sarcastic chuckle. He felt good around Zack. And it showed in his smile, in his laugh, in every other part of his being.

"No, I'm not taken, as of tonight. My girl and I fought yesterday, and well today she called and said I wasn't her guy anymore. It wasn't exactly the nicest break up, but don't worry, beautiful, you won't have a crazy ex attack you." Zack said with a grin. He leaned forward a little and kissed Cloud's forehead.

"That's good."Cloud gave a small smile back, and tried hopelessly to smother the small amount of hope that was beginning to pool in his stomach. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Zack's for the first time.

It felt so good. Zack's hands went under his shirt and he leaned his upper body forward into the kiss. Cloud pressed his hips into Zack's and the man responded in kind.

They went on like that for a while, a lazy kiss, neither dominating, no little struggles. Their tongues intertwined lazily. Zack's hands gently caressed Cloud's back, and then his stomach, before lifting his shirt over his head. Cloud removed his arms from around Zack's neck and trailed his hands down Zack's front, grabbing the front of the man's pants without the hesitance he'd felt before they had kissed. Zack groaned into Cloud's mouth as he began to rub his hand against the man's hard on. Cloud felt a little smile tug at his lips.

"Baby, you might not want to do too much of that. It feels real good." Zack slurred softly into Cloud's ear after pulling away from the kiss. He moved his hands to Cloud's ass pulling his hips against his body, trapping Cloud's hands between them. He turned them around, pressing Cloud's back against the wall and moving his hands up to frame either side of Cloud's face. He looked into Cloud's eyes, and the look in his eyes made Cloud feel like he was the only person in the entire world, everything Zack wanted, the only thing he needed.

Zack kissed his nose and smiled at Cloud, still staring into his eyes.

"Your eyes are the most beautiful I've ever seen, you know. They're what made me notice you, tonight at the bar. Glancing at me, so innocently."

"Yeah, right, I was thinking things that were definitely _not_ innocent."Cloud retorted with a snort. "You know, you're kind of ruining the mood with all your talking."

"Hey!"Zack squawked with a small chuckle and mock offense before relaxing further into Cloud and pressing every inch of his body against Cloud's.

"I like guys," He whispered, "No romancing needed. There's no manipulation involved either, just the truth, cold and cruel though it might be."

"Hmmmm, I see. Well, then, let's get on with it then." Cloud said. He, yet again looked into Zack's eyes, and was shocked to see the affection that was there. He was even more surprised by the reflection of his own eyes. Cloud had never known himself to look so carefree. There was a happy, playful tinge to his eyes he'd never seen before.

"Of course" Zack murmured. He leaned in and kissed Cloud. This time he was more passionate, more forceful, dominating the kiss in a way that made Cloud sigh and press back against him. His hands clawed their way up Zack's back to the spikes of his hair. He found himself pressing back into Zack forcefully and tugging harshly at the other man's hair, making him gasp, giving him a chance to force his tongue into the other man's mouth. Thereby initiating a small contest for dominance Cloud didn't at all mind losing after a few minutes of struggle. He tugged on the other man's hair one more time before letting him dominating the kiss once more.

Zack groaned a little at that. Cloud couldn't help but open his eyes during the kiss and getting a look at the other man's face. Zack kept his eyes closed. It was beautiful, and Cloud wanted the sight to be burned into his memory. He closed his own eyes after a few moments of staring at the other man and rocked his hips forward into Zack's, savoring the friction of the movement. Zack moved his one hand over Cloud's stomach and into his pants, rubbing at Cloud's erection. Cloud sighed, loving the feeling of someone else's hands around him.

"Bed?" Cloud demanded but it sounded like a question when it was muffled by Zack's lips.

Zack pulled a few centimeters away from Cloud's lips opening his eyes to stare, yet again, into Cloud's.

He nodded his head just a little. "Bed," He agreed.

Cloud smiled. Hoping like hell that this wasn't a dream.


	3. Smell of Freedom

A/N: I spent quite some time on this. I wrote. I edited. I wrote more. I edited again. Then I wrote more yet again and finally I edited and revised for the last time. Now the beginning might seem a little scattered, but there is a lot of information in this chapter about Zack. Some about Cloud. A lot of elaboration on the things that were mentioned in the previous chapter. Sorry but there's no Vinnie.

Disclaimer: Would I be posting on a fanfiction site like the poor nerd I am if I was the rich nerd who owned Square Enix?

Chapter 3: Smell of Freedom

When Zack woke up feeling something soft against his skin, he immediately knew that he was snuggling with something. Zack had always been a really tactile person, and, though he would _never _admit it to the majority of his soldier friends, he was one of the few men in the world able to admit to themselves their fondness for cuddling. Realizing that there was fluffy hair beneath his chin, warmth in his arms, and breath fluttering against his chest, he came to the conclusion that whatever he was cuddling with was most likely alive.

He groggily squeezed whatever warm, soft and fluffy thing he was sleeping with into his chest and inhaled the scent of whatever it was. The scent of fir trees, spring water, and fresh air filled his nose. He'd almost forgotten what those things smelled like. He couldn't help but wonder how on earth this person managed to smell like freedom, wilderness, and life.

The pleasant scent made Zack gratefully rule out the possibility of whatever he was snuggling with being anything other than human. Zack had some very unfortunate memories involving waking up with a strange animal in his arms. Once or twice he'd gone out drinking with the guys only to wake up in a strange predicament, and one time he'd found him-self waking up in a dog-pile of numerous black Labrador puppies. It was unpleasant to wake up to the feeling of a puppy tongue in your ear.

That one instance wasn't the only time Zack found himself waking up next to a strange animal. During a mission near a forest on the border of Mideel Zack woke up, on the third day of the third week of his third deployment, to find that a raccoon had managed to find its way into his tent and…..it was a surprise to realize he'd somehow managed to grab hold of a wild animal in his sleep and _not _get mauled. Somehow the animal had decided to snuggle with Zack and slobber all over him instead of chew his ear off…..

That raccoon had certainly taken a liking to Zack. It was a six week deployment and over the following three weeks Zack became famous for his new pet, which he named Sookie, because it was very obviously a girl what with the way it jealously warded off that one civilian woman (and those two civilian _men) _who had aggressively approached him when he was wandering the village closest to their campsite (no, he was _not _shirking his responsibilities and skipping his patrol duty- no one said that the village didn't need patrolling).

There came a time where everyone in the campground knew of his pet. Squad mates, subordinates, and any other military personnel he associated with during that mission made cooing noises whenever they saw him and playfully ribbed him because Sookie followed him everywhere and had a habit of riding on his shoulders, wrapping her tail around his neck.

He always laughed and made jokes back, and he became even more well-liked among the lower ranks than he already was. He was already pretty popular because he was a naturally happy person and treated everyone the same way. He was kind and helpful without being condescending. He was a nice guy, but his somewhat _prodigal_ rise in ranks tended to get in the way of friendly relations with the men he worked with. He took every opportunity he got to ensure that the jealousy directed toward him didn't morph into grudges, rivalries, prejudices, or hatreds, but there were many times he'd gotten into conflict over his quick rise to power. It seemed people found it difficult to believe that Zack was an extremely hardworking person who was blessed with a lot of talent.

He always told the people who directed resentment toward him that they should first train until their hands bled and it felt like their arms and legs would fall off before they talked to him about taking the easy way out. He also told them that they should carry three comrades off the battlefield, making sure to crawl and fight their way out of a horde of Wutaian foot soldiers, without a weapon, in order to do so, before they could talk to him about bravery. (He was often accused of kissing ass and bribing officials to get where he was. Once or twice, he was called a coward for avoiding conflict with those who attacked him verbally, and one time, after it became known that he went for men as well as women, he was accused of exchanging sexual favors for a rise in the ranks. Needless to say that person suffered from a broken jaw. Zack almost suffered a nervous breakdown when his bisexuality became common knowledge to Shinra personnel, but after realizing that Shinra didn't give a shit what he did in his spare time, or who he did those things with, just so long as it didn't affect his work performance, he calmed down.)

Zack had many happy memories featuring that raccoon. Because of this he came to think that 333 might become his new lucky numbers, what with him meeting Sookie on the 3rd day of his 3rd week of his 3rd deployment. But alas, he was sadly mistaken. Sookie didn't last well in her new domesticity and Sephiroth put her down claiming that there was no way the animal didn't have rabies. Zack swore she only foamed at the mouth because of the smarties he gave her but noooooooo Sephiroth wouldn't listen to reason. He wouldn't even believe him when he said that she didn't _mean _to attack him and nearly bite off his hand, he'd accidently stepped on her _tail, _so it was perfectly reasonable that she went slightly ape shit.

Zack did _not _cry when Sephiroth _murdered _Sookie, and he was not being overdramatic by holding a funeral for her, even Angeal, ever stoic Angeal, cried because of the speech he made. (No. Unh-unh. It was _not _because he'd spent over half the funeral coughing and choking, and that was _not _him trying to hide laughter. Nope, no it wasn't.)

The mishap with Sookie, combined with some other horrible things made him realize that bad things happened to him when he was associated with three threes in a row. It was bad luck. There were many circumstances that proved it. Harry, his beatific puppy had died the 3rd day of his 3rd month in the 3rd grade, the Modeoheim mission had been on the 3rd day of the 3rd month of the 3rd year Zack had been a Soldier, and Aerith had dumped him, just recently, on the 3rd day of his 3rd year being a First Class soldier after he returned from a mission that had been 3 weeks longer than it was supposed to.

333. Evil numbers if he ever saw any. No one who kept stock in the 666 idea was worth their shit. Zack determined that he needed to take precautions to ensure that he didn't suffer anymore from the nasty 333 timeline that screwed him over. Anyone who knew Zack Fair knew that superstition was alive and well in the Fair household and by association, in the houses of any and all of his friends. Zack Fair was a proud Gongagan, and proud Gongagans believed in their superstitions.

The elders frequently told him that an individual chose their own superstitions, and that luck was different for every person. Uncle Rupert could believe that breaking the necks of every beer bottle he drank, after he drank them, brought good luck, just so long as he cleaned up after himself and ensured Zack didn't get anywhere near the broken glass. Zack's father could believe wearing mismatched socks kept him in the good graces of Lady Luck, just so long as he made sure he put his pants on properly and zipped up before he left the house. And dream catchers would ensure that good fortune followed his mother into her sleep if she believed it would. Just like the lucky earring she wore every day of her life would pass her good fortune on to him, now that he was a soldier on the other side of the continent, far removed from her loving care. Zack wore her earring every day, partially because he liked the reminder that he came from a loving place, mostly because she had threatened to shave his head bald if he didn't.

Zack missed Gongaga, and he especially missed having people around that understood his slightly… _different _culture, but he didn't think he'd ever willingly go back to living in that hot, moist, and suffocating jungle village. Still, he didn't think he'd stay in Midgar the rest of his life either. He didn't like cities. He was a country boy through and through. Unfortunately for him, he realized this only after living in Midgar for just over nine years.

He had recently begun to long for the country and the outdoors. He'd give anything to move to a little village near a forest like the one that brought him Sookie. He'd love to be able to walk among the pine trees, breathe in the fresh air, listen to the trickling of a creek or the rushing of a river, and feel free again.

He felt like he was trapped by an ever growing mountain of responsibilities, enclosed in a tight space, restricted from the possibilities life had to offer, dying a prisoner and most importantly, all alone.

The person Zack was holding at the moment smelled like pine trees, spring water, and fresh air. He liked the way this person smelled, it reminded him of being free, of being happy, and of having someone to laugh with. It was almost as relaxing as…

Zack couldn't help but wince as he was reminded of his broken heart. There was a hollow feeling in his gut, a loneliness standing over him like some shadow bent on tearing him apart, an all around icky feeling that filled him. He'd done the screaming and crying last night. He'd broken things. He'd raged to his pals. He'd gone out and he'd gotten drunk. Apparently he'd even found a rebound one-night stand to make him feel like yes, his dick still worked. All that was left was the second look at the relationship, the review of everything that had been wrong, everything that had been right. After that he had three options: get angry and fucked up and go through the whole process all over again, call her up and try and work it out, or… accept that they'd gone their separate ways.

Aerith had smelled like flowers. She'd been magical, mystical, beautiful, everything he'd never known he'd wanted. Her smile had fixed all his problems. Her quiet words had soothed him and her beautiful voice had done everything else he'd ever needed. He felt like he was as free as he could possibly get, as close to flying in the sky as he would ever be, when he was with her.

Everything she did for him…. How long had it been since he'd come to depend on them? Zack was hard pressed to remember the last time he'd gone a day without thinking about her. He couldn't remember a time he hadn't used the thought of her smile to keep him going. It would be difficult for him to remember what it was like to live without her songs, her smiles, and the feeling of her standing by his side.

She probably wouldn't sing for him again, smile for him again, hug him, soothe him, or love him ever again. He probably would never again be comfortable asking her for those things. He'd thought that she was willing to give them, but he was wrong, it seemed. He'd taken too much from her. And hadn't given enough back. It couldn't be more obvious. Despite the fact that he'd done everything he possibly could to give her everything she ever asked of him. It wasn't enough. Not good enough. He wasn't good enough.

She'd said many things. He'd yelled back. They'd screamed, cried, thrown things. Zack had never gotten into an argument that bad with any of his previous girlfriends, definitely not with any of his 'guy' friends. Those relationships had been easy, relaxed. None of them had forced expectations on him or manipulated his actions with smiles. They hadn't made happy proclamations that involved him without consulting him. They hadn't automatically expected him to agree with whatever they said. They hadn't made him feel like he wasn't good enough. And the sex was definitely a lot more fun… Then again, his guy friends had, more often than not, used him. He'd been more invested in all those relationships than his partners, despite his carefree act and reckless mannerisms.

Somehow, he was always the one that felt dumped. He'd 'cut loose' a few women, most notably that one secretary that had started spouting all the random facts she knew about him while they were having sex. It had been difficult to phrase his decision not to see each other again in a way that wasn't incredibly insulting. He didn't think saying _'Sorry. You're hot, but I don't find my shoe size, height, regiment, and apartment number_ _sexy'_ would have gone well and ended up giving an extremely vague 'it's not you, it's me speech' that made absolutely no sense. She'd done some nasty, extremely stalker-like things for a few months before the restraining order and Sephiroth's blizzaga convinced her he really honestly didn't want to see her again. (He'd been a little more selective about his bed partners after that mishap.)

Occasional mishaps aside, Zack was, more often than not, the one who lost in relationships. That is, if love were a game and the object was to take someone's heart, use it, break it, throw it away like trash, and then leave the owner behind, missing a valuable part of their self-esteem. He seemed to be perpetually attracted to people who just didn't click with him, and contrary to the popular belief on base he didn't just go for anyone. He had a type, and normally, if the relationship ended up involving sex, or even second base, he was the one who initiated the contact in the first place. Did he have horrible taste or something? Why did he do the same things over and over again, expecting different results?

This thing he'd had with Aerith had been the longest… romantic… _entanglement_ he'd had with anyone. (Relationships normally involve sex, don't they? So it couldn't possibly have been a relationship. Although he knew sex didn't mean it _was _a relationship. Why did these things have to be so complicated? Was that long, painful, torturous thing he'd had with Aerith the closest he'd ever gotten to a relationship?) He and Aerith had been together for three long years. He'd been the happiest he'd ever been with Aerith and he had definitely fallen harder than he ever had before. Throughout those years he'd thought that what he had with Aerith was the best thing he'd ever had.

It had also ended the worst. Most of his previous flings had ended gradually. He and the second party had taken a step back, realized they were better as friends, and returned to the way things had been at the beginning, a fun little circle. Then again, they'd started out as friends then evolved into friends with benefits. No real romance had ever really been involved, although there were one or two little forays into that kind of feeling. There was no way he and Aer were going to be able to be friends. Not with the way that ended.

Gaia, it fucking _hurt._

_Zack, don't come back to the slums and see me again. I'm not your girl anymore, you're not my guy. I can't forgive you for what you did. What in the world made you think something like that would be okay?_

He shook his head violently when the sound of her voice filled his mind. He squeezed the warm body lying beside him tighter, closed his eyes shut tighter and buried his face in the fluffy hair that lay below his chin. Then he returned to his thoughts. This person was sound asleep, he could tell by the sound of the breathing, the feel of the heartbeat. For all Zack knew, it could be 4 am, just an hour or so after they'd fallen asleep.

He was tired, but his thoughts were keeping him awake. They hadn't shut up the night before, after that horrible fight, before that awful phone call, before he'd called up a bunch of friends he hadn't talked to in months and gotten drunk…. when it seemed things could be fixed and all he had to do was think of the right way to make it all okay again.

He realized now, he couldn't make it okay again, because it hadn't been okay for a long time. It'd been bad for a while. It had probably started getting bad as long ago as his promotion to first class.

It hurt. Oh Gaia, it hurt. What had he done? He'd changed nearly everything about him for her. He'd worked so hard for her; started praying and reformed his evil ways (he didn't see how it was evil when he hadn't harmed a fly). He'd burned so many bridges because of her, given up so many things, and some harmless mishap sets her off?

They'd argued a lot. Frequent screaming matches had plagued their relationship, and it wasn't entirely her fault. Oh hell no, it wasn't. Zack was stupid; he lacked a few I.Q points, especially when it came to women. He'd made the mistake of flirting a little too much, drinking a little too much (only for a few months, just after Angeal had died, he'd realized it was a problem, he'd stopped), and he'd said some stupid ass, often times cruel, things. (_How on Gaia could he have said she was ugly? He thought she was the most beautiful person he'd ever met! Fat? What the hell had he been drinking? He didn't doubt he'd said it. He was dumb enough for it, but really? What was wrong with him!) _ A lot of his friends were dicks, a lot of the things he'd done had been dick moves. He'd tried so hard, though, and he'd thought the world of her (when he was sober). They'd worked it out (Or so he had thought).

He'd been faithful to her. He'd spent as much time with her as he possibly could: every day off had been spent in the slums, every free hour had been on the phone. Three years, he'd devoted three years of his life to her, had even bought a ring, and she threw it all away? Just like that? "I'm not your girl, you're not my guy." What…. the…. fuck?

He'd asked her last year, she hadn't given an answer. He was okay with that. At the time he would have waited five years for her to say yes if he had to. He wanted to marry her, have children with her, settle down with her, and do right by her. He didn't think he really wanted that anymore.

He _had_ been faithful to her. He didn't have sex with, go on dates with, talk to, kiss, or even seriously consider anyone since he met her. He hadn't really even looked at other people all that much. Porn? Nope, it didn't do it for him. Trashy magazines? Strip bars? NO. He did NOT cheat on her, nothing he did could be in any way construed as unfaithful, despite the fact that she barely allowed him to kiss her, none the less actually touch her.

And she repaid him with horrible accusations and a phone call?

He'd understood her beliefs. He hadn't forced the issue of intimacy or pressured her for sex. He'd kept it in his pants for _three whole fucking years!_ No complaints at all. No flirting with the secretaries. No nights out with the guys. He'd quit smoking, he'd quit drinking, hell he'd even quit singing in the late night shows for amateurs because the music the majority had performed was _blasphemous. _Like hell it was!

One mission, one mission runs overtime, one mission he's ordered not to communicate with anyone outside, and three weeks without contact, then he's one girlfriend short. What….the…..hell? He'd warned her long ago that something like that might happen! In fact, he'd been on countless missions like that, had gone even longer than three torturous weeks without contact! Why was she reacting like that now?

Okay, yeah, he did happen to be on a mission with his ex at the time, and yeah, maybe he should have warned Aerith before he left that it would be one of _those _missions, the ones that went overtime, got bloody, got _ugly_. So, he'd mismanaged _some _things, but he hadn't done anything to deserve that reaction. Besides, he'd told Aerith about Cissnei a long time ago. He'd even introduced the two of them to each other. They were friends! He'd done a lot to try and make sure she realized Cissnei posed _no _threat to her. He and Cissnei were just friends, probably were better friends now that they realized they just didn't do it for each other (Zack was Cissnei's first attempt at a relationship with a guy and although everything with him had been great (apparently she was bisexual) she'd realized she preferred women, always had, always would). He'd done nothing to make her think he was cheating.

He had done nothing wrong.

She didn't care, it seemed. Apparently all of his past wrongdoings, everything he'd tried to atone for all these years, and, most importantly, his dealings with other men, had nailed his coffin shut. He was "an alcoholic, a slut, a jerk, a non-committal delinquent, a recreant" and every other horrible word in the good book. Whatever. He'd never apologize for loving other men. No way in hell. He'd loved Angeal, even after the guy had dumped him for Genesis a year or two before he'd deserted Shinra. As much pain as that had given him, he didn't regret it. He would never apologize for it.

Aerith wasn't meant for him. He wasn't meant for her.

Angeal wasn't meant for him. He wasn't meant for Angeal.

Maybe he'd find whoever he was meant for some other day. As pitiful as it sounded, he still believed that there was someone out there that would be a good match for him.

Zack sighed and opened his eyes. He lifted his face slightly, and put his chin on the fluffy head of the person he was holding. He took a moment to examine his surroundings, he didn't remember much from the night before, and was pleased with what he found. At least there seemed to be four walls around him, a sound roof, nice paint, he must be above the plate. That was good. It meant he wouldn't have to worry too much about his next STD screening. It was a sparsely lit motel room; apparently they'd left the lights on the night before. Damn shame he couldn't remember everything that had gone on. He resisted the urge to move the blanket and peek at the body he was snuggling up against and remember the sights he'd forgotten.

He loosened his grip on the body he was holding so tightly, rolled away just a bit and turned to face the ceiling. The stranger's back was toward him and his scent (obviously male) filled the room.

The scent reminded him of freedom. Strange as it was, this person somehow managed to _smell_ like freedom in this ugly metropolis. Midgar was definitely _not _as free as he'd been lead to believe when he was a wide-eyed teenager traveling to Shinra, trying to be a hero, but that wasn't something he could brood about at the current moment.

He'd found friends in Shinra. He'd definitely been a lot happier as a soldier than he'd been as the eccentric, hyperactive, reject child of the town drunk.

Yeah, Rupert Shinra had been the biggest bastard ever, and he'd mismanaged the company something awful. And, well, Sephiroth _had _almost gone batshit because of Hojo, the creepiest mother fucker on the planet. However, Vincent Valentine had rescued the SOLDIER program from _that_ particular disaster and done much to stop some of the other problems of the company from escalating out of control. As for the ruler issue, Rufus Shinra took over the mantle of President after his father had become 'too ill' to run the company and had 'retired' to Costa Del Sol.

The younger Shinra had been taught by both his mother, and the Turks, about what it meant to rule Shinra, wisely, ethically, and peacefully. It was hard to make a company that started out as a ruthless arms dealer work the straight and narrow, but Rufus did his best to make sure he didn't abuse the people anywhere near as bad as his father or allow abominations like Hojo to gain too much power. It also helped that he'd gotten an appropriate lesson in how he was to properly treat and use the military courtesy of Sephiroth, and his second in command (cough Zack Fair cough).

There were still problems, lots of them, but at the moment, Zack felt he had no right to complain, because those problems were a lot less grave than the ones he'd faced before. They'd moved from the darkest black to the lighter side of gray. They were nowhere near the clear, but they no longer stood for evil.

Zack couldn't remember what freedom felt like. He'd been in Midgar for a long time, about three years, for basic training. Then he'd spent another four in Wutai. After that he'd gone on missions all over the world, but he spent most of his time in Midgar or in Wutai. The missions he received in other places were so brief and so few and far between that they never really gave him that breath of fresh air he craved. It had been a long time since his last mission anywhere other than Wutai, Midgar, or Junon and he feared it would be a long time before he went on another. Midgar smelt like garbage, mako, disease, and human waste. Junon smelt like sea brine, factories, fishing boats, and the sweat of the masses. Wutai…. The only smells he remembered from Wutai were mud, blood, and smoke.

He tried to forget memories he wish he didn't have and remember the night before. How had he come about holding this body against him? He rolled over, and smiled a little as he squeezed the other man back to his chest, tighter than he had before. The person he was holding didn't like that. He squirmed some and lightly grumbled unintelligible curse words under his breath. It was kind of cute, kind of annoying, that this person didn't like to be cuddled when he was so easy to snuggle.

Zack didn't want to let go. He wanted to stay in bed, go back to sleep, and snuggle with this person all day. Thankfully, he could actually comply with this desire. Considering his recent fuck-up with Aerith and the leave he'd gotten after coming back from a long top-secret mission that kind of went wrong, kind of went right, mostly just got fucking _complicated_, Zack had time on his hands. He felt his grin grow wider and considered wicked ways to wake this guy up, then thought better of it, things were starting to come back to him…

"_You know, you're kind of ruining the mood with all your talking."_

Holy fuck. Zack thought. Was this guy's voice really that sexy? An accent? Wow.

Zack chuckled as some of the conversation from the night before trickled back into his mind. Had he really told this guy about Harry? He'd told this cute little stranger (_since he's a guy I probably shouldn't let him know I think of him as cute and little, but really, what does he expect? He's barely five-eight and if I remember correctly has chocobo hair) _about his cute little puppy, that had died when he was eight, and had been his best friend ever since he was born. That said something about the guy. Zack probably liked him more than he did his usual one night stands.

Which made him wonder how in the hell he'd managed to get someone with an actual personality to sleep with him last night. He'd been drunk of his ass. He'd drunk over half a bottle of absinthe, about twenty-six beers and more. Thanks to the magical powers of mako, he didn't feel like he'd run head long into a bulldozer, but he couldn't believe he'd been at all attractive when he'd approached the guy.

_Did I really say "Hey blondie, you're my type?"_

Zack felt a sudden urge to turn the guy over and look into his face. Was this guy ugly? Was that why he'd gone along with Zack despite the sheer enormity of his stupidity the night before? Then again, if he remembered what had gone on, there was no way he'd been as stupid as he thought.

As Zack struggled through his memories of the night before, he realized he didn't remember anything about what the guy looked like. He remembered the sounds he'd made when Zack had pinned him to a wall. He remembered that the guy had yanked on his hair, which had surprisingly turned Zack on even more than he'd already been. He remembered the murmured "Bed", which as Zack thought about it, had to have been the sexiest murmur he'd ever heard.

His voice, if his memories weren't mangling it, had been pretty damn sexy. The accent had been pretty darn cute, and had only showed itself when the guy had been preoccupied with Zack's hand down his pants, which Zack really didn't mind. Not at all.

Zack decided he should mess around a little with the guy. Maybe find out if he was ticklish, if he had any gruesome scars, any obvious deformities, stuff like that. He didn't want to check him out in order to see if his face was ugly, no, no, no. That kind of thing didn't matter to him if the person had a personality. His body was perfectly fine, if the feel of him against Zack was any indication, and the narrow taper of his waist in Zack's arms any help. Zack was, okay maybe he cared about outward appearance a little, but not like half the guys in the world, the ones who ripped apart the appearance of perfectly beautiful women for no reason at all.

He was just curious about how the fuck this guy was able to lower himself enough to have a one night stand with a drunk like Zack. He was the first to admit that he was the most obnoxious, most unattractive, most inane drunk on the planet.

Was the guy drunk himself? Zack couldn't remember.

_Hmmmmm, how do I turn him around without waking him up?_ Zack wondered as he tried to think of a plan to see the guy's face.

Zack slid his arm slowly out from underneath the guy's side and pressed lightly on the shoulder that wasn't pressed into the mattress. The blond grumbled quite a bit at that. He obviously didn't want to be disturbed. After muttering and mumbling unintelligible complaints the man turned over and flailed one hand a little in a 'go away, NOW' gesture.

Zack could see his face perfectly now. The eyes were closed. The skin was pale. The eyebrows light, forehead normal sized (no cave-man brow YAY). There were other features that caught his attention, like the perfectly shaped lips, gentle slope of high cheek bones, elegantly shaped nose, an almond shaped face that tapered to a point at the man's narrow chin, but those weren't what really shocked Zack.

What Zack noticed the most was the strange familiarity he felt, the odd sense of recognition he felt, the déjà vu, upon seeing those features.

He'd seen this face before, and had felt exactly the same way he felt now upon seeing it…. How the hell could he have forgotten seeing this face?

Silence…

Zack noticed, as he looked at the most beautiful face he'd ever seen, that the room was eerily quiet.

Maybe it was the lighting? Maybe that explained why this guy had a prettier face than any woman Zack had ever seen.

Surely no guy could be this beautiful?

Zack had seen some beautiful men. Duh. His best friend, and superior officer, was _Sephiroth. _His best friend's dad, his hand-to-hand combat teacher, the guy he looked up to like an uncle, and knew even better than his actual uncle, was _Vincent Valentine. _A person was hard pressed to find anyone with a face that held a candle to the handsome faces of that father and son pair. They were as close as a man could get to beautiful, or so Zack thought.

There was no fucking way anyone could say this guy was ugly. Even if they were drunk off their ass, like that time Zack became so stupid drunk he actually thought _Aerith Gainsborough_, a girl who was frequently stopped by modeling agents while she was doing her grocery shopping, was ugly.

Even the word beautiful couldn't describe the man's face properly. There was no way this face was anything but male, but it was still far more beautiful than any woman's. What…the…hell?

It was otherworldly.

He couldn't tear his eyes away if he wanted to. How on _earth _had he managed to land someone so beautiful when he was drunk off his ass?

"_Riiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnng! Baby why you calling me so late? It's really hard to talk right now. Baby why you crying? Is everything okay?" _

"Fuck." That was _not _the ringtone Zack wanted to hear at the moment. Why the hell was Aerith calling him? Could he ignore it and hope it went away?

The guy lying with him- _Gaia, _why couldn't Zack remember his name? – started to grumble unintelligibly again.

"_I guess we never really moved on. It's really good to hear your voice saying my name it sounds so sweet."_

The guy opened his mouth and spoke. "Gaia, what is that? Turn it off!" He moaned. He put a hand to his head and Zack immediately rushed out of the bed and started to search for his pants.

"Heh. Sorry!" Zack said as he frantically looked for his pants, which hopefully had his phone in it.

Zack freaked out. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? He was so totally going to make a fool of himself in front of this beautiful man. He could feel it sinking into his bones. The dread was climbing up his spine. He was so totally screwed.

Okay, so, what did he remember?

Pretty much nothing useful.

Did he embarrass himself last night? In the bar? Or worse…after they got to the hotel had he…failed to perform? Zack had never had trouble getting it up, but… with enough alcohol it could have been a problem. However, that one time Zack had that problem was after drinking his weight in alcohol and before he had any mako in his system, it had never happened again.

He didn't have a headache so that meant he hadn't been smashed enough to have that problem.

After a few minutes of fumbling around and panicking uselessly he found his pants. And thank Gaia, his phone was in the front pocket of his jeans.

The only thing he had left to worry about was whether or not he was going to answer.

Why the hell should he answer? After what Aerith had said last night, was it any surprise he wasn't really willing to talk to her?

And how awkward was it to talk to her, after he'd gone and had a one night stand with someone? And what was he thinking last night doing that? He was just proving her right!

No, he wasn't. He hadn't cheated on her, and she'd broken up with him anyways. He had the right to search for a casual fling. She'd cut the ties, and yeah, maybe it was poor taste to do that so soon, but he'd been with her for a long time, and hadn't had sex for a long time because of it. It was inevitable that he'd rush into something without thinking.

He was fucked.

While Zack was torturing himself over the question of whether or not to answer the phone it was still ringing rather loudly throughout the room.

"For Fenrir's sake! Turn that off!" The man's voice was velvet smooth, a soft monotone, not too high, not too low, melodious in a way Zack didn't know was possible. His accent was clear, his voice was garbled by sleep, tinged with slight irritation, and a touch of pain.

Well, it was obvious that the guy was drunk last night as well. He was suffering one major headache if his voice was anything to go by.

"Heh. Sorry about that!" Zack said, quickly making his decision to press the ignore button on his cell. Problem solved. At least assuaged, this way he wouldn't have to deal with the addition of Aerith into this crazy awkward situation.

Had the morning after been this awkward before he'd gone on a three year long 'Sorry, I'm taken' stint?

Maybe that was why he'd made a habit of sneaking out before the other party woke up, instead of being stupid enough to spend quite some time gawking at the person he'd jumped into bed with.

Lesson learned. Or remembered might be the right choice of words. Zack had been in this awkward situation before. It was embarrassing as hell but at least he knew he'd survived.

Zack couldn't bring himself to turn around and look at 'the blond-man-whose-name-he-didn't-remember.' He straightened out from the stooped over position he'd been in (he'd had to bend over to grab his pants from the floor) and forced his spine into the perfectly straight position he'd had beaten into him during basic training. His back was to the blond man and his eyes were staring at the plain striped wallpaper of the motel room and the door that broke the negative space apart. The door was right in front of the bed. Typical motel room, pretty typical situation.

Why did he feel so fucking awkward?

As Zack heard the creaking of the mattress behind him, he guessed that the guy was moving into a sitting position and turned around to look at him.

"Wha…..?" The guy asked groggily. He was holding his head, crumpling his blond spikes in his right hand as he shook his head and started to look around.

Zack stared at the blue eyes that were searching the room. He'd never seen eyes quite like those. They were the brightest and deepest cerulean he'd ever seen.

The man looked up and met Zack's eyes.

The wide blue eyes widened and a look of recognition entered them, followed quickly by an almost comical expression of shock.

"Uh… hi?" Zack said, shifting his feet.

The man's shocked face immediately and rapidly transformed into an expressionless poker face. The change in demeanor was so fast that Zack expected himself to get whiplash.

The man's eyes hardened right before Zack's eyes and Zack felt his stomach rise up and start to eat his throat. This was going to be bad. That was not a good sign.

"I recognize you, but you don't seem to recognize me." The man said softly, indifferently. The accent was gone and Zack felt a slight pang at the thought of it. There was no emotion in his voice or on his face. His eyes held a strange mixture of emotions Zack couldn't even hope to decipher the meaning of.

"Heh. I'm bad with names and faces, and I guess I was pretty drunk last night." Zack responded, shifting his feet again. He reached an arm up behind his head, rubbed the back of his neck, and sent the guy a sheepish look.

The man snorted derisively. "Understatement." He said succinctly.

"Hey! Judging by the fact that you were holding your head a few seconds ago, you got pretty drunk, too." Zack said indignantly dropping his arm to his side and taking a bit of a defensive stance. He wasn't as offended as he let on, but the simple monotone and simple monosyllabic response annoyed him. It drove him to get a suitable response out of the other man, just like with Sephiroth.

The man smirked a little and then looked Zack up and down coolly and appraisingly, like one would look at a chocobo they were about to buy. One eyebrow lifted and his face took on a slightly amused, if still mostly emotionless, expression.

The hairs on the back of Zack's neck started to rise and he could feel his hackles begin to rise as well. This guy was annoying, smug, cocky, which he had no right to be. It was obvious from the fragments of sense he was able to make out of his hazy memories that this guy had been a lot more sober than Zack, which led one to ask the question: Why the hell did this guy have sex with him? Not just for the fuck of it surely? He didn't seem the slutty type.

"What's with the smirk?" Zack asked challenging the other man with a glare. The blonde man looked him directly in the eye and smiled. It was a slightly mocking smile, but it was chillingly beautiful to Zack. It made him wonder what a real, genuine smile born only of happiness would look like on that beautiful face.

"You are standing there stark naked, sir." The other man replied with a chuckle.

Zack looked down. He flushed slightly.

_Okay play it cool. It's not like you have anything to be ashamed of, besides, that guy is just as naked as you are._

"Well, so what? You are too,"

"Yah, but I just found it amusing that you didn't seem to notice at all." The man said with a good natured, slightly indifferent, shrug.

Had Zack just misread this guy? He seemed to be relaxed, calm, not anywhere near as cocky as he'd thought before. He didn't seem smug at all, on second thought. He seemed to be uncomfortable, almost shy. What?

"Hmm." Zack said and fixed the other guy with a shrewd look.

"Umm I don't mean to be rude but where are we?" He added on as an afterthought.

The smaller man looked at him and tilted his head slightly to the left.

"Have you forgotten all of last night, sir? What do you remember?"

What's with the sir? Zack wondered.

Zack chuckled sheepishly, "Unsurprisingly little." He answered.

"Well, to start off my name's Cloud. Just so you know. And we're in a motel that straddles the line between Sectors three and four… Umm, this might be a strange thing to ask…" The man paused and shot Zack a cautious look.

Zack smiled and waved a gesture for him to continue.

"Ummm why aren't you in, like, serious pain right now? You drank a shitload of some pretty strong stuff. I mean you ended it pretty light and probably burned a lot of it off but, there's no way you don't have a hangover just about….say… five hundred times worse than mine?" Cloud spoke hesitantly, but there wasn't any emotion on his face.

"Heh. I'm a Soldier."

"I know that, sir, but-"

"How do you know that? Did I tell you last night?"

"Nah. I work for Shinra, too."

"Really? Ummm have we ever met on the job?"

"Once or twice, sir. No big deal. I was just another nameless grunt, sir, and you were just another Soldier giving orders."

"Ah. I see."

_I better not get into trouble with this. If he turns out to be some stalker-hero-worshipper…I'm in deep shit. Seph __**warned **__me not to be so loose. He's not gonna rescue me with that blizzaga of his again._

Zack shifted again. He began to worry about how this would turn out. The guy was strange, Zack couldn't read him. That wasn't a good sign.

He looked into the blue eyes in front of him. They were honest, the face was cool, expressionless, but the eyes told the whole story. He remembered a hazy fragment of conversation from the night before.

"_And I had to put Harry, the greatest puppy in the world, down!" Zack exclaimed in slight outrage._

"_Oh. I'm sorry. I know how that feels. I had to put down a friend once, too."_

"_Really?_"

"_Yah. Y'see I found a wolf pup when I was young… It was separated from its mother. All alone." A pause as the speaker looked off into the distance sadly._

"_I raised it. Hah. Pitiful thing is that I thought of it as my best friend for the longest time and then I had to kill it. A bunch of jerks, my age and a little older, came to our house-we lived on the outskirts of town, the furthest away from the village- and stormed the place. My mother was out. She was the town healer, and she was off, wasting her time, helping one of the ungrateful housewives that never treated her the way she ought to have been treated, give birth to a new baby boy. They were yelling, and crying out. "Princess Cloudy come out and play, we'll see who's stronger now-"_

_The boy paused and looked at Zack. Zack couldn't tell why and didn't really want to try to decipher the look. He just took things as they came. He was content. Whatever the other man was looking for he must have found because he continued with his story._

"_They picked fights with me all the time. I lost only the first two. Then I learned to fight back. This was after several consecutive times I thrashed their asses. They were looking for revenge, y'know. Can't say I blame them. I would be too." Blue eyes met Zack's. Zack's attention was riveted by the lull of the blonde's soothing voice and the intrigue of his exotic accent, which seemed to get thicker the longer he spoke. Zack leaned closer because of the anger and sadness in those eyes. _

"_Anyways, the dumb shits brought pick axes with them. There were about ten. No way I could fight them by myself. But they also had a torch, and Nibelheim's a dry place. The roofs are thatched. My house could catch fire in a second, be burned to the ground in the next ten. They threatened to set fire to my home. I had no choice but to go out. _

"_By that time I let Shell, the wolf, I think she was a girl, but I could never be sure, I haven't gotten close enough to a pack of Nibel wolves-they tend to be vicious- to tell a she-wolf from a he-wolf. I let her wander around the woods during the night. She slept in a little den in the back yard during the day. She always returned to me without prodding. I never tied her up, never caged her._

"_She heard, or sensed, I guess, the commotion. She came back to the house in time to see me being beaten up. Two guys were holding my arms behind my back. One was punching me. He got angry. I can't say that I wouldn't have, too. I wasn't responding at all. I was just glaring at them coldly. They didn't take it too well. They demanded I say something._

"_I did. They didn't take that too well either." The blond man laughed softy. Zack grinned, after talking to the man for a few hours he could imagine just what the guy would say._

"_One got so angry he raised his pick ax above my head, and just when he was about to bring it down, bashing into my skull, probably killing me, Shell attacked them with a snarl so terrifying I almost ran for cover myself. _

"_She tore at them, but didn't kill them, or try to eat them. Only three of them even got bit, but that was enough for the townspeople. They made me kill her. Said if I didn't they'd hunt her down themselves. Shoot her, skin her while she was still breathing and mount her head on the wall of the town pub." _

_The man paused and let out a shaky breath. There was a great weight on his shoulders, a profound sadness was visible in his bearing. Zack knew he must have loved that wolf far more than Zack could have ever loved Harry. It made Zack feel a sudden affection rising within him. Anyone with a heart that big would be a great and loyal friend. Zack needed those. At the moment he had only one friend like that. _

"_I killed her. I didn't know how to do it humanely. I almost cut her head off with an ax. It was so painful. I was shaking and sobbing as I lifted it over my head, looked into her trusting eyes, and started to bring it down. _

"_My ma stopped me. Thank Odin. _

"_She told me that she had just made an herbal mixture that would kill her softly, let her peacefully slip away into sleep and then death._

"_I slipped it into her water and gave it to her. I watched as she drank._

"_And she died in her sleep an hour later." _

Zack looked into those blue eyes and grinned. That affection he felt the night before was rising up in his chest and he bounced forward toward Cloud. He bent down and put his hands on the base of the bed.

He looked into the blond man's eyes before crawling onto the bed and making his way toward him.

Cloud's eyes widened and he just stared.

Zack found the other man's shock to be cute.

"So… I don't really remember last night." Zack said smoothly. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes, he knew. He continued to move forward even as the blond started to back away.

The other man stopped moving only when his back struck the head board. He looked like a cornered animal.

"Relax." Zack said reassuringly as he positioned himself so he was straddling the smaller man.

He placed his hands on the Cloud's waist, moved them so that they met at his firm stomach. One hand grabbed the blanket around the blonde's waist and pulled it away.

He slowly took in the body beneath him, moving his eyes down, then up the slender, but well built frame. Cloud had a lot of muscles. He looked small and weak from far away, and probably even smaller when clothes hid his well defined muscles, but up close Zack could tell that this man could pack a punch. He could probably take down a man three times his size with those tightly packed, lean muscles.

He looked at Cloud's face, up close and personal. It was even more impressive, more foreign, at this distance. He was looming over the blond. He felt the other man's hesitancy, sensed the slight fear, and smelt a tinge of excitement.

He looked into the eyes and leaned forward until their lips were centimeters apart. He closed his eyes, moved his hands to grab hold of Cloud's hips, yanked the smaller man closer, and trailed his hands up his shoulders. He wrapped one around the blonde's back and slowly moved backwards dragging Cloud away from his sitting position and laying him against the mattress softly.

"I think I want to remember what we did last night. Don't you?" he asked huskily before opening his eyes and looking back into Cloud's, fixing him with a soft but demanding stare.

"Maybe."

"Hmm?" Zack leaned in closer, moving his eyes to the blonde's lips.

His lips just barely touched Cloud's when his phone rang yet again.

There was a moment of complete silence as both men turned their eyes toward Zack's pants lying on the floor, just a few feet away from the opposite end of the bed.

"What the fuck? You can't be serious!" Zack exclaimed in outrage. He moved away from the blonde and sat back on his heels.

Cloud began laughing. Zack turned and looked at him.

"What's so funny?" Zack asked. He couldn't help but smile. Cloud's laughter was definitely contagious.

"This-" The blond began speaking only to break out into another fit of laughter (not giggles, no, no, no Zack didn't want to get punched for thinking that).

"Hah-Hah….heh" The blonde took quite some time to stop laughing. All the while Zack looked at him with a confused expression, a soft, questioning smile adorning his face.

"What is so funny?" Zack asked again when the blond had obviously gotten his breath back.

"This stuff only happens in movies! You gotta admit that the cliché interruption right when we're about to kiss is just fucking hilarious! How improbable is that? It's so fucking cheesy."

"Heh. You've got a point Blondie." Zack said. He was amused by the thought of it, too. What timing. He got off the bed and went to the phone and checked the caller I.D.

"Shit. Sorry I've gotta take this."

"Fine. Fine. I need to piss. There's a little kitchenette and living room area outside the door if ya need your privacy." The blonde said and started to climb out of the bed and head toward the door directly to the left of the bed.

Zack needed to get it together. He thought as he rushed out of the main door and headed toward the counter and tiny three foot by three foot kitchen area. He hadn't even noticed that there was a door to the left of the bed and he definitely hadn't noticed that it was open to a perfectly clean, perfectly useable bathroom.

He had to piss, too.

Unfortunately for him, the person on the other end of the phone would undoubtedly get violently impatient with him if he took the time to pee before answering.


End file.
